


A Crab's Heart

by TheAlternativeRuler



Series: this was supposed to be a sadstuck Johnkat oneshot what even happened [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: John is still blaming himself for everything, M/M, Sadstuck, Twoshot, dave is an asshole, sequel to Even Crabs Have Their Soft Spots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlternativeRuler/pseuds/TheAlternativeRuler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are becoming a clingy little leech.</p>
<p>The one you've decided to latch onto like the disgusting vermin you are? None other than John Egbert, your new flush-crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How a Crab Can Become a Leech

**Author's Note:**

> Like this wasn't going to end up as a twoshot. As usual, all rights for the characters go to Hussie.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are becoming a clingy little leech.

The one you've decided to latch onto like the disgusting vermin you are? None other than John Egbert, your new flush-crush.

You haven't let John out of your sight for any prolonged periods of time for the past three days, ever since Lalonde dropped the fucking bomb like it was hotter than Alternia's sun. He was so shaken up after he found out that he was---in his opinion---completely responsible for the deaths of so many of his friends. You just don't like to think of him crying alone somewhere like he was on the day you all found out exactly what the fuck went wrong with your plan.

Honestly, it's kind of a good thing you've been so attached to him. Especially considering what happened after you'd finally calmed him the fuck down...

~*~*~*~* flashback ~*~*~*~*

The two of you head back up to the room you'd met with Rose and Dave in, and the humans are still there. You aren't really sure why, you figured Strider at least would've bailed the first chance he got, but there he is, sitting right beside Lalonde. Surprising all the males in the room, Rose jumps up and rushes over to the two of you. She wraps John in a tight hug, probably squeezing his organs right out his ass. 

"R-Rose?" he stutters in shock, but also due to lack of breath. He can't return the hug, Lalonde has his arms trapped too. You think they'll be broken the moment she lets go.

"I'm so sorry, John. I'm so, so sorry. Please don't ever run off like that again," she mumbles.

John laughs his own awkward, dorky giggle and replies, "Well, I actually flew most of the way." A glare from you causes him to wince and amend the shit he just spewed, with, "I won't, promise."

Satisfied, Rose grabs both your arms and drags the two of you to sit on the couch across from herself and Dave. Strider's shades cover his eyes, but you saw the pale eyebrow arch in disbelief, the gesture saying, 'Really? You think you can just sit there after all that shit?'

You growl, and immediately the other brow shoots up to join the first in his alarm. You feel John's eyes on you, the concern and curiosity oozing from him in waves. Rose simply raises a single, identically pale brow in questioning.

An awkward silence ensues. Possibly one of the worst awkward silences you've ever been in, which is saying a lot considering your group of friends. No one quite knows what to say that won't fuck shit up more than it already has been. You're about to complain about how unproductive you're all being, when Egbert of all people cuts through the silence like a claw tearing through skin.

"Guys, I'm...I'm so sorry," he whispers, but in that silence, he might as well have shouted. Rose looks like she's about to protest, but John is having none of that. "No, Rose, just...just listen to me, okay?" At Egbert's pleading look, she backs the fuck off to let him speak. John takes a deep breath and continues, "I-I know what I did was...well, unforgivable. I'm definitely not going to forgive myself, and I don't expect you guys to. But...I still want to apologize. I'm just...really, really fucking sorry. I'm a complete asshole and I'm sorry. I ruined everything and I'm the worst friendleader in the history of friendleaders and I'm so, so sorry."

You didn't cringe when he said that. You didn't whimper lowly when his voice cracked and you could hear tears threatening. None of that happened at that moment, so shut the fuck up.

"John, I..." Rose, for once, is at a loss for words. You see the debate going on in her mind. Her logical side agreeing with everything John said, her friendly side sad for both him and her now dead friends, her sisterly side worried about Dave's reactions, her therapist side worried about John's state of mind and how this all might psychologically affect him. Jegus, Lalonde's mind is a scary, fucked up place you wish to never visit ever again.

"Rose, i-it's okay. You don't have to say anything. I fucked up in the worst way possible and I shouldn't expect anything from the three of you. And I don't, really. And...I get that you guys probably don't want anything to do with me right now, so I think I'll just disappear for...a while. You won't see me or anything, I promise." John looks down at his lap and bites his lip. You know how much it hurt him to have acknowledged and said that, and you feel a fist clench around your bloodpusher.

"Fine. Get the fuck out of here, Egbert. You shouldn't have come back in the first place." Dave stares from behind his shades, but you can still tell that he's mad as a hungry lusus.

John looks so hurt. He knew that Dave was angry, but not that pissed. You see the waterworks beginning again before John blows away with a breeze that comes from out of nowhere. His form blurs into shifting, twisting lines of blue that dissipate into the air before you even blink.

"John, wait!" Rose calls out, but it's too fucking late. John's already gone.

"Just let him go, Rose. He's right, he doesn't deserve anything from us," Dave states, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder. Rose shrugs it off immediately and whips around to glare at him. "How can you possibly say that? Once upon a time, John was your best friend, someone you loved and protected. What ever happened to that? What happened to the Dave I know and love?" 

"He died with the rest of his friends," Dave deadpans, face blank behind those dumbass shades.

"Strider, you need to shut your motherfucking wordhole. Stop spewing your shit," you say, glaring at the asshat in question. Rose and Dave look at you now, waiting for the verbal tirade they know is coming. "When Egbert ran away the last time, you two were up here doing whoever the fuck knows what. And I honestly don't give a fucking flying shit, because I was doing something that was actually gogdamn helpful. I tracked Egbert down to one of the storage rooms at the bottom of the ship, and what I saw there would've broken even your 'coolkid' heart." You glare at Dave specifically then.

"John was down there, shoved into a corner, curled into a little fucking ball that was leaking tears like a broken faucet. He was tearing himself apart, apologizing to ghosts that weren't there, his friends whose deaths he blamed solely himself for. He was shaking like a leaf, bawling his eyes out and absolutely breaking into a million little fucking pieces of Egbert-agony. When I finally got him to talk to me, he kept screaming that he was a monster, that everything was his fault, and that he was a horrible creature." Rose places a hand over her mouth in shock, her lavender eyes becoming glossy with impending tears. Dave's face stays a blank slate, and you want to kill him for it.

"So when I finally calm him down and bring him back here, what do you do?" You're ranting at Dave only at this point, trying to get some kind of reaction out of him. "John apologizes, still putting himself down, still worried about the two of you, not knowing if you'll ever forgive him, but he pretends he doesn't care. And then, instead of being forgiving, comforting, and understanding, you act like a complete asshole. He'd already felt like a monster, but then you had to go and tell him to get the fuck out of here, that he never should've come to apologize, never should've joined his friends again, friends he was terrified of because he had no idea how the two of you would treat him because of what he'd done. Now he's probably in some remote corner of the ship, tearing himself apart even more than before because of what you said. You practically gave him a concrete-as-fuck reason to treat himself like shit. I hope you're fucking happy with yourself, Strider."

Dave sits in silence for a minute, then he stands abruptly and walks right out of the room.

Rose sighs and shakes her head, watching the door slam shut behind him. "Dave...I understand why he's so angry, but I wish he would not take it all out on John. I wish that I'd never told you all how our plan failed, none of this would have transpired if it were not for me."

"No, it's not your fault, and it's not John's either. It's fucking Noir's fault. The next time I see that bastard, he's going to wish he never put on that gogdamn ring," you declare, balling your hands into fists.

"Well, let's hope we don't see him for quite a long time. None of us are emotionally or physically prepared to fight Jack again." Rose sighs deeply. "I just hope that somehow, Dave will see that he's in the wrong, and he and John will be able to mend their friendship."

"You and me both," you grumble.

"I will admit it, I am extremely curious," Rose says randomly. You glance at her with a look that asks 'have you been drinking Faygo?' She laughs half-heartedly and clarifies, "Why aren't you angry with him? I would normally expect yours and Dave's roles to be switched." 

You sit in silence, not wanting to say your personal reasons for supporting John and not flipping your shit. Rose stares at you for a few minutes, then nods as if she read the thoughts straight from your thinkpan.

"Hmm. Alright then. I think I will wander around the ship and take stock of our supplies. Why don't you attempt to track down John again? Try to calm him down, I am sure what Dave said has had a negative effect on him," Rose says, gently nudging you along.

"Right. I'll look for a fuckass, you deal with all the other shit. And Lalonde? Let's leave Strider the fuck alone for a while." You stand up, and Rose nods in agreement.

Walking out of the room, you realize that you'll have to sniff him out again. "I feel like a barkbeast," you grumble. You open up your senses, search for his scent trail, and follow it. This time, the trail leads you up, not down, and you wind up all the way on the main deck of the ship. Then his trail drifts upward (little windy shit must've flown). You have to use a ladder to get up to where you think it ends, on top of what must be the control room for the ship. 

You finally reach the top (holy fucking shit, it's high up) and there he is, just how you expected to find him. Hugging himself, shoulders shaking from sobs, curled into a pathetic, pitiable little ball. John looks like a mess, one you know you have to clean up. A-fucking-gain. 

You carefully sit down next to him and swing your legs over the side of the tower. "John?" you prod carefully, feeling like you're walking on gogdamn eggshells.

To your complete and utter surprise, instead of pushing you away like he did last time, he hugs you. John whirls and clings to you like the pink monkey he is, arms wrapped tightly around your chest like a fucking vise, face buried in your shoulder (you're definitely gonna need a new shirt). 

"K-Karkat..." he cries into your shoulder, convulsing with his sobs to a point where it looks almost demonic and you're kind of scared for a second before you remember that it's just John. John who's scared and depressed and you need to be there for him right the fuck now.

"Shh, I'm here. It's okay, stop crying, you're fine." You can't fucking believe it, but you're shooshpapping Egbert. What has this gogdamn game done to you?

"N-no...Dave is right, I-I shouldn't expect a-anything from any of y-you. I-I don't even know w-why you're here now..." John says, his sobs dying down to just a flow of tears, but you can tell he's still pretty fucking torn up about it all.

"Cut that hoofbeast shit right now," you growl. "Strider is being the biggest fucking asswipe I've ever had the displeasure of seeing, and he's been fucking you over with his shitty antics. You shouldn't have to deal with any of that bulgesucker's shit."

"...He sounded s-so...angry. He's n-never been mad at m-me like that b-before..." John whispers and stutters sadly, looking so pitiful you think your bloodpusher might cause you to explode. Chunks of your pathetic self will forever be scattered all over the roof. They will rain down over the edges and hopefully hit Strider, because it'll serve the bastard right.

"He'll get over it. I don't think he can stay mad at you for long. And even if he doesn't, it's his loss, not yours. If he wants to be a fucktard and lose all his friends, then I say go right the fuck ahead," you insist, squeezing John tighter in reassurance. 

John hugs you tight enough to rival Lalonde's hug from before, and even though he's putting your ribs and lungs through utter hell, you can't help but hug him back just as tightly. He's turning you into a fucking softie and it's disgusting, but you don't even give a shit.

~*~*~*~* end of flashback ~*~*~*~*

From that moment on, you've made sure to stay with Egbert at all times possible. You're also trying to keep him the fuck away from Strider, to prevent John from having another breakdown. No one needs that shit right now.

On the off chances you've been caught without the Heir of Breath, you've seen Dave. He always looks like he's about to talk to you, but you don't want to hear his bullshit. You make sure to growl before he has a chance to utter a single fucking syllable through his shitty wordhole. After that, he usually just absconds like the stupidass coward he is.

At the moment, you're all kind of at a standstill, a fucking impasse, even. Dave can't talk to anyone but Rose, John won't talk to anyone but you, you'll talk to anyone except for Dave, and Rose can only get to you and Dave. The four of you can't be mature enough to shape your shit up. You just can't sit together and talk about all the shit that's been raining lately, you can't fucking do it. None of you can, and it's so gogdamn stupid you're about ready to shit miles of rage snake. You should all be coming up with some kind of plan, sharing your ideas about what the hell is going on, maybe even sharing dreams and shit, who knows what could be useful to know? But no, you're all just a bunch of motherfucking wrigglers that can't do shit.

And who the fuck do you happen to literally bump into while grumbling about said shit? Dave Motherfucking Strider, that's who.

"FUCK!" You growl and clutch your forehead, rubbing at it in contempt. You're glaring in Strider's direction. He mirrors you, minus the growling and glares. Asswipe looks like he's just about to say something, but whether it's an apology (pretty fucking unlikely) or not, you don't want to hear his voice. "DON'T SAY A GOGDAMN WORD, STRIDER."

His mouth closes abruptly, and he just sits there. You can't tell for sure because of those dumbass shades, but you think he might be staring at you. To avoid more of this aggravating yet awkward as hell interaction, you stand up, flip Strider the finger, and leave without another word.

You think it's about time to find John, before you murder the douchelord that used to be his best bro.


	2. A Crab's Comforting Carapace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4/13 everyone! I'm updating every Homestuck fanfic in my arsenal in honor of its end. ((Yeah I know this one is late, sorry guys))! Thank you all for staying with me through this journey, reading what I put out and motivating me to keep doing what I want to do, even if I suck at keeping any kind of updating schedule. All your views, votes, and comments are what inspire me, I love seeing that I can contribute to this beautiful fandom that has done so much for me in my life. Oh, and don't worry, I promise this isn't the end of my Homestuck fanfiction writing career. I'll see all of these fics through to the end, and though Homestuck may be drawing to a close, my love for it and its fandom will never die. I hope you all have a wonderful day filled with memories of good times in the past and new ones of all of us coming together for our final goodbye. Thank Andrew Hussie, thank every person who's ever contributed to Homestuck, whether it became canon or not. Thank the fan artists, the fanfic writers, the cosplayers, rpers, and ask bloggers. Thank all the people who make this fandom one of the greatest ones out there, because there are just so many of them. And of course, don't forget to thank the characters we've known and loved along the way. 
> 
> So, without further ado, read on my fellow Homestucks!

Your name is John Egbert and you feel like death. Knowing what (who) you'll see if you fall asleep, you keep yourself up at all costs. The coffee gadgets have become particularly useful, so you don't stray too far from one if you can help it. 

The only problem is that they're all in the more "busy" areas of the ship. You promised Rose and Dave that you would stay out of their sight, so you try to keep to that promise as much as possible. If one of them comes near your current hiding spot, you make yourself scarce pretty quickly.

The only person you won't immediately abscond from is Karkat. It wouldn't matter even if you did, he'd just track you down again anyways. Plus...you crave the contact. You're not meant to be alone, it's not in your Egbertian nature. You've always had friends to talk to and your Dad to be around, but now you have nothing. Or at least, you have very little, and deliberately force yourself to have an extremely small amount of that very little. 

Anyways, Karkat has become very...comforting? Which is a strange enough adjective to use in the same sentence as the troll's name, true as it may be. He's been very supportive throughout this whole shitstorm, letting you cry all over  his clothes and scream your pain into his shoulders, and you couldn't be more grateful. You still feel awfully guilty, but you're too selfish to let him go like you should. The whispers are telling you that you deserve to be alone, suffering in the cold dark abyss of despair. They say you'll kill him too, if you let him stay. They tell you of all the pain you've already caused, filing you with guilt, depression, and disgust with yourself. And while you know what they say is true, you somehow seem to forget that fact every time Vantas actually makes it into the picture.

Seriously, someone get this troll a prize. You'd honestly be dead by now without him. He forces you to eat and drink things other than coffee, makes you actually get up and walk around, orders you to take showers and just take care of yourself. You really don't want to think about what you'd have done if he died too. He keeps you somewhat sane, healthy, and just human enough that you don't give into the whispers' whims.

Speaking of Karkat, you're cradling a cup of joe at the moment, blacker than said troll's eye bags. This is the...fifth cup today? You lost track, which you know is going to piss him off when he finds you again. You'll probably be on constant watch for the rest of the day, maybe longer. Damn.

(You don't really have a problem with it).

With a (frankly half-hearted) grumble, you savor your next sip of caffeine and curl up further into the corner. You've taken to squishing yourself into corners of the walls behind large objects, somewhere deep, dark, and hidden. It...makes it less likely for you to bump into Dave or Rose.

Eventually, the warmth in your cup fully transfers to your body. You captchalogue it for now and wrap your arms around your legs, trapping the hot feeling in your core. Your little hiding spot suddenly becomes comfortable and warm, tempting you to fall asleep despite all the caffeine flowing through your veins. You blink rapidly, rubbing your eyes hard enough that eyelashes get stuck to the folds of skin in your fists. You will not fall asleep after everything you just did to stay awake. You don't want to deal with the horror terrors, or worse, the dream bubbles. You can't take that now, you really just can't.

But sadly, you aren't strong enough to fight off sleep. Days without it running mostly on supplemented energy have worn down your body and you have no defenses against this drowsy attack. With a heavy sigh of defeat and fear's tight fist closing around your heart, you succumb to the weights on your eyelids and the tiredness in your bones.

~*~*~*~*

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you want to curl up in a recuperacoon and sleep for about three sweeps.

This, pitiable as it may be, will not be happening any time soon. There are no recuperacoons or slime deposits left, and even if there were, you have things to do that are far more important than sleeping.

Taking care of John Egbert, for one.

Ever since the human's ever-increasing slide down the tunnel of depression, you've been acting almost as his over-worked moirail. You have to force him to eat, drink, bathe, even sleep occasionally, if you can convince him to do it. John certainly has gotten into the slump-to-end-all-slumps, but it's okay. You're here for him, you don't mind picking him back up again and again. He's fragile, tipping over and smashing into thousands of fragments of himself almost constantly, but you're there to find every little bit of him and put them back together. No matter how many times you have to do it, no matter how long it takes, you won't stop. Because you know at some point the glue will dry stronger than before, the tape will strain, but not break, the pieces may chip, but not crack. Someday he'll be whole, permanently.

Anyways, you need to find John because it's already past noon and you'll bet your crabspeakers that he's had coffee blacker than your mood and nothing else today. You check his hiding spots in the more "crowded" area of the ship, determine that he's not here, and start moving out to the deeper recesses of the massive golden transportation device.

A quick scent sponge check gives you a general idea of where he's holed himself up and you head that way. It's down one flight of stairs and several hallways over when you figure out exactly which block he's in. You walk up to the coffee gadget, note that it's been recently used, sigh, and then take a look around. You've figured out his usual tendencies and preferences when it comes to hiding, so when you see the large, boxy machine pressed almost up against a corner, you know that's a pretty good bet. As you get closer, the mental checklist goes off. Near a coffee gadget? Check. Enough space to squeeze into? For a skinny bastard like John, yes. Not extremely noticeable? This block is filled with tons of weirdass metal constructions that Sollux would've had a field day with, so definitely yes. Dark as shit? You peer around the edge and it's pitch black where the actual walls meet. 

You blink several times to make your sight globes adjust to the darkness. When they do, you can make out a slumped shape in the corner. Bingo.

"Hey, Egbert, get your ass out of there," you call.

No response. Huh.

"Don't ignore me you insufferable douchebag!"

Still nothing.

"...John?"

You squish your right arm and shoulder into the space and reach for his leg. Surprisingly, your claws on his ankle don't cause him to tense up or react in any way at all. Worry makes your thinkpan spin, but before you can really freak yourself the fuck out, John mumbles some useless dribble and shifts under your hand. Oh. He's actually asleep. Wow.

...Fuck, how are you going to get him out of there?

After about ten minutes of awkward wiggling, dragging, shoving, pulling, and cursing, you manage to get Egbert out of his hiding spot. He's still asleep, sprawled out on the floor like an especially large pawbeast. Knowing he'll probably be more comfortable on his human fabric block, you lift him up bridal style like he's one of the sassy dames from your romcoms and carry him to his respiteblock. While you trudge along the blindingly bright metal hallways, John curls into you like he really is a fucking meowbeast, nuzzling against your protein chute in his sleep. You smirk, tightening your hold on him protectively like the knight you (sort of) are. You know he'd be embarrassed as all hell if he woke up right now, so you might as well savor the moment while it lasts.

Eventually, you make it to John's respiteblock. You gently set him down on his human bed and tuck the fabric square around him like a human mother lusus would. He whines when he loses contact with you, wrapping around himself and burying his face in the pillows. You definitely don't blush at that. Your face is as gray as your text and no one can say otherwise. 

You stay by his side for a while, tentatively carding your touchstumps through his hair and lightly scratching with your claws. He sighs in his sleep, still curled up into a ball of pale Egbertian flesh, relaxing more and more.

When he settles into a seemingly deeper sleep, you get up and quietly make your way to the door. Just as you're getting there, hand poised to open the hatch, John moves. He shifts under the covers, tightly fisting them and whimpering as he does. For a moment, you think he noticed that you disappeared, but that moment doesn't last long. John continues to move around, tangling himself in his fabric squares as he writhes. He's making these small, pitiful as fuck noises, full of fear and sadness. You hurry back over to him and sit on the edge of his human bed, then grab his face and attempt to shoosh him. It doesn't work and not long afterwards you feel the clear tears of his species sliding down his cheeks until they hit your hands. 

Your eyebrows are furrowed worriedly and you can't stop pawing at his face in an attempt to soothe him. He's still making these awful sounds, crying all the while and moving restlessly. Nothing you do seems to make any difference, it's like he's unaware of your presence at this point. 

Then his noises become more distinct, forming into, well, mostly decipherable words.

"No..." he mumbles, shaking his head and trembling beneath you. "No, please...'m sorry..."

Some other mindless dribble comes after that along with more tears, so you move to shake him awake, only to back the fuck up when he outright screams. It tears its way out of his airpushers, ripping through organs and skin and teeth and bedsheets as a sound of pure agony and terror. He thrashes more as the wails and cries become longer and louder, some as actual words.

"NO! STOP, PLEASE! I'M SORRY I'M SOSO SORRY! NONONONONONOSTOPSTOPPLEASEJUSTSTOP!" 

You're frozen in shock for far too long before you lunge forward and grab his shoulders, almost digging your claws into the flesh. You shake him roughly, calling out, "JOHN! JOHN WAKE UP YOU NOOKSNIFFING DUMBASS! WAKE UP IT'S JUST A DREAM! JOHN!"

You take a deep breath, bite your lip, and clench harder till you feel the tips of your claws actually puncture skin, slicing little cuts into him. He gasps, instantly jolting awake with the pain and sitting up too fast until he fucking smacks your heads together. You're dazed for a moment, letting him go immediately and clutching your forehead, cursing all the while.

John is hyperventilating, his aspect doing nothing to help him breathe right now. He's shaking so hard that you're worried his bones will crack from the force and the tears continue to flow like transparent rivers. His whimpers and mewls are so gogdamn pitiful you want to wrap him up in your arms and never fucking let him go. 

So you do just that.

Egbert resists you at first, tensing up and trying to wriggle free, whispering nos and pleas. Fully prepared for the challenge, you lock your limbs together and stay put, rumbling deep in your chest in an attempt to calm him. It works enough for him to stop struggling, slumping against you in despair and defeat. You whisper shitty sweet nothings to him as he sobs, removing an arm to gently pet his head and smooth down his ragged hair. 

"Shhhhhhhhh, I'm here, I've got you. It was just a dream, calm the fuck down. No one's going to hurt you, you're safe..." you coo, internally gagging at how fast and hard you've fallen for this boy.

"Y-y-you d-did," he shakily whispers, referring to the scratches adorning his shoulders.

You wince and move your free hand to rub lightly against them. "I'm sorry, I had to wake you up. You were having a nightmare, and a fucking doozy of one at that."

"G-gee, y-ya think-k?" Still a sarcastic little bulgesucker, even when he's falling apart.

Instead of replying, you keep papping and shooshing him, unconsciously rocking your bodies to comfort him. When he's calmed down a bit, you tentatively ask, "...What did you dream about?"

He stiffens in your arms again, then sighs and loosens up. "It...i-it wasn't a dream bubble. J-just horror t-terrors."

"Doesn't matter, I still want to know what made you so upset. You were screaming like a fucking banshee in your sleep."

A long pause and a deep breath later, he says, "It wasn't a d-dream bubble...b-but it looked like one. That's w-why I was so shaken up."

"What do you mean?"

"I m-mean the dream seemed l-like it was real, b-but it wasn't."

"Okay, so what actually happened?"

"...I saw them," he breaths out, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Who?" you whisper back, for some reason afraid to break the quiet.

"Everyone. Kanaya, Gamzee, Terezi, D-Davesprite...J-Jade." He's about to lose it, but a quick squeeze from you helps him hold it in a little while longer.

"Th-they were all there, like it really was a dream bubble. Just...waiting. F-for me, I guess. I was so terrified to face them, but...I-I knew I had to. J-Jade...she was at the front of them all. She...she smiled at first, l-like she was actually happy to see me. I walked up to her, expecting to be...I don't know, yelled at or h-hit or something, but she hugged me. I-I was just so shocked I didn't know what to do or say. I thought...m-maybe I was forgiven, that it was okay." 

John sounds so hopeful, like that's the only thing in all of paradox space that he wants, and it just about breaks your bloodpusher. This makes the sudden turn his tone and demeanor take with his next words floor you, scare you, even.

"I...I was so wrong."

You hold him closer to you, feeling your body heat cycle into him and then come back to you in a ceaseless chain of what you hope is comforting contact. "What happened then?"

"Jade...she...she growled in my ear. I...I could f-feel her cl-claws gripping me. Sh-she was crushing me to her. Then...she just laughed a-and the others...th-they got closer too. A-and they all st-started to say these...h-horrible things to me. Th-the things that I was s-so scared to hear. The th-things that I knew w-were true." He pulls back to look tearily into your gander bulbs, tightly gripping your shoulders like he's trying to make sure you understand exactly what he's saying to you. "I...I killed them, Karkat. I-it was completely m-my f-fault. And that's wh-what they said. Over a-and over."

"Is that why you were screaming what you were screaming? You were saying no, begging, and apologizing a fuckton," you conclude, gripping his waist since he won't let you pull him into a hug again.

John shakes his head and shudders with fresh sobs as he relives the memory. "N-no that's not wh-why. Th-they started to...to hurt me. B-biting, scratching, p-putting pressure on my bones u-until they b-broke. J-Jade pulled out a-a knife and sh-she cut me w-with it, everywhere."

Your lookstubs widen in shock, then soften with all the feelings you have for him and with how strongly you just want to fucking take all his pain away. He doesn't resist the hug now, squeezing your neck and shoulders tightly with his arms as he cries into your chest.

"I-I-I knew it w-wasn't a dr-dream bubble at that p-point. I w-would've woken up b-by then fr-from the wounds. B-but I still b-b-begged them to st-stop because i-it felt so r-real and I kn-knew I deserved it, b-but I c-couldn't t-take it anym-more. B-by the time you w-woke me up, I w-was b-barely able t-to think because I was in s-so much p-pain."

You let him cry for a while longer, shuddering against you like a drenched meowbeast. He's breaking again, but you're ready to pick up every damn piece. This time, you're gonna put millions of layers of glue and tape, then you're gonna stick him to the fucking table, because you don't want to see him shatter anymore. Enough is enough, he can't take much more of this and neither can you.

"Hey, John, look at me." You tilt his chin up so his puffy, watery gaze meets your own stern, pity-filled one. "You do not deserve to be hurt like that. I never want to hear you say that bullshit ever again. You don't deserve to be tortured, you don't deserve to be stabbed in the back by your friends, you don't deserve to be cast out into the void and left for dead, and you don't deserve this fucking agony that I know you're going through. You made a mistake, but who gives a single flying fuck? You can learn from it, you can damn well grow because of it. You're allowed to be human, John, you don't have to be perfect, and you shouldn't beat your own ass or let anyone beat it for you just because you messed up." You rub his cheeks with your thumbs gently, drawing little patterns and wiping away the distress fluids as you go.

He opens his mouth like he's about to speak, but you interrupt him. "Oh hell no. You shut the fuck up and listen to me, Egbert, because I'm not finished yet." You sigh heavily when he stops trying to talk and start again. "Look, I know you're scared shitless about talking to them again, but you know them, John. They're your friends, they care about you as much as any potential palemate could. They're not going to fucking hate you and they sure as hell won't torture you; you're not some circus beast that gets hit every time it makes a mistake. So man the motherfuck up, nookwif. Stop being so gogdamn afraid of what everyone thinks and stop being such a little bitch to yourself. I know you're better than that, so start fucking acting like it."

…You got a little pissy at the end there, but you think he'll understand why and what you mean by it all. 

John blinks at you, just staring and watching for an almost uncomfortably long amount of time. Then he says, "Okay."

You blink yourself at that, a little surprised by his response. "Okay?"

He nods. "Okay. I'll man up. I'll stop being such a little bitch about everything. And…I'll try really hard to stop beating myself up over this. It's not gonna happen overnight, but I think I can do it, if you help me?"

He leaves off questioningly, extending just a small amount of bravery and confidence to ask for help. You're already proud of his progress. 

You grin wryly at him and say, "Yeah, I'll help you, Egbert. What are friendleaders for?"

His lips turn up in response, and even though it's a small smile, it floods your bloodpusher with warmth and affection. (So damn worth actually using the term friendleaders).

"So…what should we do now?" he asks, biting his lip a bit in thought.

"Now? Now we're sleeping because I could really use a nap for once and you could too, for that matter," you reply, fixing the fabric squares that John had fucked up earlier. 

He panics (predictably). "What!? No. Nonono. I'm not sleeping again, no thank you sir. This is why I drink like six cups of coffee a day."

You give him a look. "Yeah? And how did that work out for you today, wriggler? You crashed and burned in a goddamn blaze of caffeine and exhaustion. Your body can't take that shit. The only reason you even had a fucking nightmare was because of all the coffee you're drinking with nothing to back it up and how tired you are from refusing to go the fuck to sleep."

He gnaws on his lip now, knowing you're right, but fearing what it means he has to do. "I…I…okay." He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long-suffering sigh of defeat. He slowly lays back down in his human bed and pulls the fabric squares around himself. He looks pretty fucking snug to you, so you pet his head one last time (you still feel like you're some human mother lusus) and get up to leave him in peace.

A hand gripping your wrist stops you though. You look in mild surprise and confusion at John, who is kind of refusing to let you go. 

He can't look you in the eyes as his face flushes a bright red (just like your own fucking disgusting blood) and he whispers timidly, "…Stay? Please?"

"…Yeah okay, I'll stay. Move over, assmuncher." 

He scoots over towards the wall, leaving enough space for you to get under the fabric squares with him. It feels weird as shit, but you guess you'll suck it the fuck up for him. He's awkwardly far away, trying to give you a lot of space, but squished up as a result of it. You roll your glance nuggets and pull him over into your arms. "Grow some shame globes and get your ass over here."

John makes a small sound of embarrassed protest, but he doesn't try to escape your hold. In fact, he seems to actually grow those fucking shame globes because he tentatively wraps his arms around your waist and pulls himself closer to you. Your legs are all tangled together, arms wrapped around each other, his face smushed against your chest, your chin buried in his hair, and it's close and personal and intimate as hell, but you wouldn't want to change a gogdamn thing.

"…Goodnight, Karkat," he murmurs, dragging his nose back and forth across your shirt slowly.

"…Night, Egbert," you softly say in answer, running a hand up and down his back.

His breathing evens out and he stops moving, curling up against your chest and hugging you even tighter. You continue your hand's movement because it's soothing you too. You bury your face into his hair and lightly kiss his head, whispering, "Don't worry, I've got you," as you drift off to sleep yourself.


End file.
